Wolves In Spring
by cloudyautumn
Summary: The dragon may have three heads as the curtain closes on the War of the Five Kings, but the game continues.
1. Prologue

**Wolves In Spring**

Written by: cloudyautumn

 _The dragon may have three heads as the curtain closes on the War of the Five Kings, but the game continues._

* * *

 _ **THE GIRL WHO BECAME SOMEONE**_

"This is what you have decided?"

No One did not turn around. She knew that the principle elder stood directly behind her. She had not heard his approach, but his smell was too distinctive for her not to have noticed. He was unarmed as always, and No One firmly believed that if she were to turn around and face her elder now, his face would be the very picture of serenity and kindness. There was probably a smile upon his lips and hovering around the corners of his eyes, too.

"Yes." Her voice did not betray the infirmity she felt. "Will you stop me?"

Her Kindly Man replied slowly, as if weighing his words before they tumbled past his lips.

"No, child." Another pause. "You and I are but humble servants of Him-of-Many-Faces. If this is the path you choose, then someday He will come to you and enact his own price."

Whether that was a threat or a promise remained unsaid. She pushed open the weirwood doors and walked through the threshold at an unhurried pace. He made no move to pursue, as he'd said. The doors swung shut behind her, jolting her out of her false calm. Down the stone steps she went, taking two or three at a time like a gamboling fawn on unsteady legs. After she reached the bottom, she went immediately for the loose stone that housed the last, and perhaps greatest of her childhood treasures. Fingers scraped against rock before coming to rest against cold steel.

"Needle," she breathed, before gathering the slender blade up and clutching it to her chest. Nudging the stone back in place with her foot, she took one last look at the great black and white doors looming above her before fleeing down the cobbled road.

* * *

 _END OF CHAPTER_


	2. JON I

**WOLVES IN SPRING**

 _Written by: CloudyAutumn_

The dragon may have three heads as the curtain closes on the War of the Five Kings, but the game continues.

* * *

 **JON**

Daenerys and Aegon were arguing over him again.

The majority of their conversation could not be discerned, but the raised voices were both telling and nothing new to Jon. The subject was made all the more obvious by the fact that Barristan Selmy was posted at the door to Daenerys's chambers, watching him silently. The look on his face was not quite pity, but it was a curious mixture of disapproval and resignation on Jon's behalf. The argument was not new to either of them.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, whether a Snow or a Waters, a bastard is still a bastard and that should _really_ be the end of it!" The voice rose as shrilly as a man's could, increasing in volume as he neared toward the end.

That was clearly Aegon.

Aegon Targaryen, who was the sixth of his name and king of the recently re-forged Seven Kingdoms. Aegon Targaryen, who resented his bastard half-brother, the child born of a union that had cost him nearly his entire family and had robbed Aegon of sixteen years as a prince of the realm. Jon could not blame Aegon for his anger. He was forcibly reminded of all of the times he had pitied himself as a child, putting himself in Lady Catelyn's shoes and hating his very bastard existence... Except this was infinitely worse because his real parents' union had actually torn apart an entire kingdom, and both the Stark and Targaryen families had paid dearly in the end. There were things Jon still didn't know, blanks that Howland Reed could not fill in- such as whether Rhaegar had kidnapped and raped Lyanna as the stories went, or whether she had left willingly, dooming her father and brother to their deaths. Jon did not know which story he liked less. Daenerys, however, swore to both Jon and Aegon that Rhaegar had loved Lyanna. She told them what she had seen in the House of the Undying- of Rhaegar' death with Lyanna's name on his lip.

Of course, that only fuelled Aegon's bitterness.

Once again, Jon's eyes met Ser Barristan's, for both men couldn't have _not_ heard Aegon's vehemence. Now, the odd look he had seen on Ser Barristan's face before was replaced with actual pity. Jon's head sunk a little, but his posture was as straight as his once-supposed father's had always been. From Lyanna Stark's womb he may have been born, but it was at Eddard Stark's knee he learned. He shifted his weight, intending to return to see Daenerys at another time. Of course, the door swung open then.

Aegon stormed past Ser Barristan, his pale cheeks suffused with bright pink. He faltered briefly upon seeing Jon's face before his lip curled in a sneer and he nodded tightly to both men before storming off. Daenerys walked out slowly behind him, her poise betraying less unease but her sigh was heartfelt.

"I'm sorry," Jon blurted without thinking. Her violet eyes regarded him evenly.

"No," she said softly, "He just needs time. His anger is tame compared to how Viserys's was." She looked sad, which made Jon feel more awkward. He just stood there, silent and un-moving, as he hoped that she wouldn't dwell on whatever she was thinking of for too long.

"It is my hope that you and Aegon can learn to tolerate one another. We are the last of our house, and too much has happened to us to cast family away so easily. Aegon will see that." She said this with conviction, but her expression told Jon that she had her doubts. "Did you need something from me, Jon?"

"Your Grace asked me to inform her when my sis-" Jon's tongue stumbled halfway through the word _sister_ , because his mind reminded him that in truth, she was not his sister. "My cousin," he amended but the word felt even more queer especially applied to Sansa. He paused before finally deciding upon "Lady Sansa". That, at least, felt familiar to him because he had long known better than to refer to Sansa as his sister in Lady Stark's presence. "When Lady Sansa arrived in King's Landing," he finished finally, feeling foolish. "I had her put into the Maidenvault with Lady Margaery, as you asked."

"Thank you," Daenerys smiled at him, but it did not reach her eyes. "Walk with me, Jon. We needs must greet Lady Stark. Procedure requires that I summon her here, but what is decorum amongst family? After all, I'm sure you have much to catch up on." The request was odd, but Jon said nothing. She walked past him, silks rustling gently. Jon turned and walked with her. Ser Barristan trailed silently behind both.

They walked in companionable silence for a while. The queen had quickly learned that Jon was not one for idle talk, and Jon was grateful for that. To consider this woman his aunt, her great beauty and her queenly mien at odds with her young age, still sat uncomfortably with him and he was never sure how to start a conversation. If they spoke, it was usually about the Seven Kingdoms, the land beyond the Wall, or warfare. There, Jon could easily slip back into the persona he assumed when he was the Lord Commander of the Wall. Daenerys, for her part, was inclined to listened to him well enough.

Today though, Daenerys surprised him by both breaking the silence, and by choice of topic.

"What is Lady Sansa like, Jon? I have heard much from many people, but nothing from someone who perhaps would have known her best." There was something to that, something stressed in the way the question was spoken that Jon was missing.

"Lady Sansa and I were never close," Jon admitted freely, with a light shrug. "But I suppose I know her well, having grown up with her." In honesty, Jon could say he knew the child she had been very well, because he did his best to stay away from her's and Lady Stark's ire. Where all of his other siblings had loved him and treated him like their brother in truth, Sansa had done her best to snub him. She was always the first besides Theon to point out his bastardy. In most regards, she was unlike Arya-

Arya, whose name still caused shards of disappointment that hurt as much as any physical wound. Disappointment in the form of Alys Karstark's silhouette atop a horse, and in the form of the wide, terrified brown eyes of Jeyne Poole who crawled out beneath a dead Ramsay Bolton. Arya who, like his mother, was dead and torn from him before her time.

He was torn from his remembrance of Arya by Daenerys's expectant eyes. Whatever question she had just asked had gone completely unheard. He reddened slightly. The silence resumed.

"I said," she began anew, eventually taking pity on him, "why not? You and she were raised as siblings at Winterfell, I was told. Eddard Stark," the name still held a bit of a bite when it came from her tongue, but it was a far cry from _the Usurper's Dog_ , "supposedly treated you as a son."

"Lord Stark played the part of father in every way he could," Jon assured her, his praise of the late Ned Stark warmer as if to compensate for his aunt's coolness, "he was honourable and I know that he loved me as a son. But I was a constant source of resentment for Lady Stark because I was not hers. I suppose I was a reminder of her husband's infidelity." There was no supposition about it, but Jon was trained not to show his bitterness too readily, "And Lady Sansa was very close to her lady mother," he added belatedly.

Daenerys made a non-committal 'hmm' noise in response. Jon found himself wondering about her sudden curiosity, but said nothing. She would tell him only if she wished to.

"Lady Sansa," Daenerys said after a moment, "says she is here to annul her marriage to the Lannister imp. However, when I offered to have the annulment done immediately and simply have the High Septon send her a raven with confirmation, she declined and told me she desired to come to King's Landing herself, _to the place where she was essentially held hostage_ , as it would give her time to re-assert Stark fealty to House Targaryen, and so she could re-acquaint herself with her _dear brother Jon._ " Jon froze at her words in disbelief. Which parts Sansa had said and not said- and of which part Daenerys was particularly sceptical- was readily apparent. He couldn't think of a single other instance in his lifetime where he had been called Sansa's "dear" anything. A quick glance in his peripherals assured him that Daenerys did not miss the change in his expression.

"It must have been very hard for her, to have been a virtual prisoner of Petyr Baelish for so long. Varys assures me that the man had a certain amount of low cunning that manifested itself abominably. I'm sure Sansa's just excited to see any familiar faces at this point." A pause. "However, if she has any other interests," Daenerys continued airily, but her voice imparted with the steel queenliness she was quickly becoming known for, "in coming to King's Landing... you will tell me, won't you, Jon? And if it's anything you don't think I'll approve of, you really should persuade her otherwise." As light as her tone was, Jon recognized the request for the command that it was. In this respect, she was Queen Daenerys, and not Aunt Daenerys.

He acquiesced, of course. Part of the debt he owed Ned Stark for raising him included not letting any of his remaining children burn or otherwise find themselves imprisoned or executed.

They soon reached the Maidenvault. Standing at the door to the solar was a woman, tall and red-haired. She did not look surprised at their arrival, and Jon was suddenly certain that she had known they were on their way. Tully blue eyes smiled at both of them before she swept into a deep, perfect curtsey.

Beside him, Daenerys smiled.

* * *

 _END OF CHAPTER ONE_


End file.
